Just A Memory Game
by LaraWrites
Summary: Accidentally sent back in time for 3 hours during Henry's birthday celebrations, Snow, David, Henry, Killian, Robin Hood, Regina and Emma find themselves trapped around Rumplstiltskin's table. He decides to play a little game.
1. Chapter 1

"Shall we play a game?"

Ridiculously, he thinks of Saw- and Billy the Puppet. It almost bugs him that Rumplestiltskin doesn't say the proper quote, but he figures it doesn't really matter.

It had started off badly, and had only gotten worse. They had been celebrating Henry's birthday party in Regina's house (What with it being so spacious) and had accidently been transported into the past. Henry had sworn it was nothing to do with him, but eventually admitted he'd found a device that seemed to send one back in time for only 3 hours, before returning them. When he'd tried to activate it, it hadn't worked and he had eventually given up- tossing it behind him in the garbage. Evidently it had been on some kind of delay because here they were all sitting around Rumplestiltskin's table in his dark mansion. He hadn't officially tied them down with magic, but Henry assumed if he tried to get up he wouldn't be able to.

Rumplestiltskin waved his hand and a dice appeared on the table. Henry looked up opposite him at his mom –His saviour one- and raised an eyebrow sceptically. He didn't feel all that worried; he was surrounded by people who would sacrifice everything for him. _Family,_ he thought with a smile.

"This dice," Rumple began, "Is marked with the words 'Physical', 'Emotional' and 'both'. We'll take it in turns to roll the dice, and either relive our worst emotional pain, or our worst physical! Or both!" He let loose another ridiculous giggle. "Sound like fun?"

Rumple pushed the dice toward Henry, who was sitting next to him.

"You first, dearie," Henry looked at his mother- both of them- for permission. Finally Regina scoffed.

"Rumple don't make Henry do this, he's too young,"

"He's gone through pain enough," Rumple replied, snapping his fingers as Regina opened her mouth to retaliate. "Wait your turn, dearie,"

Henry sighed and rolled the dice- there didn't seem to be much of an alternative. He watched it land next to him – _emotional._ Typical.

Before he could blink he was no longer around the table, but standing on the town line of Storybrooke. He looked up into the teary eyes of Regina.

"If I had never gone to get Emma," The words just seemed to spill out of his mouth, like he had no control. He didn't, actually. "If I had just lived under the curse with you,"

The pain of losing his home, his family, his _whole life_ , hit him suddenly. He would never see his grandparents again, his father, his _mom_! He threw his arms around Regina. She didn't deserve this; and nor did he. He knew he got to keep Emma, but even then something about that wasn't right. It wouldn't be real. He would lose all his memories with her. He would lose her too.

When he got into the car he made an effort not to look behind him- or to break down in front of his mother. He tried not to think about all the things he'd miss; hot chocolate at Granny's, countless adventure's, even school! Maybe school. He blinked away a tear, and then they crossed the town line.

Henry came back to the table with a thunk, picking his head up like he had just been asleep.

"Henry! Are you alright!?" called panic voices from all around him. He wiped his eyes, praying nobody would notice.

"F-fine," He mumbled "I'm fine," Rumplestiltskin's giggle cut through everyone's thoughts.

"The boy's brave," He chuckled, "He could work on his acting, though," Henry looked at his hands resting on the table and sniffed as quietly as possible. With trembling fingers, he passed the dice to Mary Margaret…

Mary Margaret

The dice felt cold in her hand; it must have been made of marble or ivory. The letters were inscribed with slanted handwriting, and Snow found herself wondering if it was Rumple's.

"Well do on then," The Dark One urged, "Roll it!" She looked up at him reluctantly and glanced back at David, who gave her a reassuring smile and placed his arm on hers. Feeling nervous, she threw the dice down gently on the table and watched it spin.

 _Emotional_. Just her luck.

The change in scenery was instant and Snow felt her mood turn just as quickly. She felt a weight being placed on her shoulders as she watched Regina look up at her, Cora's lifeless body in her arms. She let out a little gasp. It was too late.

"You did this," Regina glowered and Snow gazed in horror. Not again. _Fuck_! Not again! She's messed up Regina's life again, and she had _killed_ someone! She was supposed to be good and pure, she was not supposed to kill people! He heart thumped heavily in her chest as she took a step back.

"No," She mumbled in disbelief.

" _You_ did this!" Regina repeated, her voice breaking on a sob as she looked back down at Cora. "Mother?" She tried again. "Mother please!" Snow watched her stepmother bury her head and weep. Mr Gold looked up at her and shot her a sickening smile, one that made her feel queasy. Not wanting to stay a moment longer, she ran out of the pawn shop and fell onto her knees outside on the sidewalk and retched. Snow threw up until her stomach was empty. She could hear David behind her, soothing her, but she couldn't; she didn't want nor deserve his sympathy. She shook her head at him and he got the message, returning inside.

Mary Margaret walked home in a trance. She couldn't erase the image of Regina's eyes, boring into her at yet another betrayal. The first time she had been guiltless, but now? Her conscious nagged at her until she felt sick to her stomach with a headache that threatened to kill her. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. And her heart felt oh-so heavy. There was nothing worse than guilt- she didn't even have the right to feel as upset as she did. Without even the energy to cry, she collapsed in her bed and lay there- motionless. Trying to calm the voices in her head.

Mary Margaret picked her head up off the table slowly, rubbing a spot where she was sure she hit it. Unlike her grandson, she was unable to control her tears, and when she looked up and saw Regina staring at her with something that could be called concern she had to look away before she was sick again.

"Mary Margaret?" David asked, his voice laced with worry she didn't deserve. Her body wracked with a sob she tried to contain.

"Mom, are you okay?" Emma asked but the answer was obvious.

"Snow," Her husband's voice was a lot more urgent now. She pushed the dice towards him and stared down at the table, unable to meet anyone's eye.

"I'm enjoying this," Rumple said with a grin, "Who's next?"

David

He wanted to reach out to his wife; to comfort her and console her. But he knew Snow, knew that face and he knew she was battling her inner demons. He knew she couldn't be reached. And so, with reluctance he tore his gaze away from his wife and to the dice sitting patiently on the table. He looked back at Henry, at Snow and wondered what he's going to get. Maybe the dice was weighted? They had both rolled the same; maybe he would get it too.

He couldn't help but wonder what the worst emotional pain he had felt was. There were a few contenders. Losing his mother, finding Snow dead? Losing Emma and Henry? Probably finding Snow dead- that had absolutely crushed him. He was just lucky it hadn't lasted too long.

But what about Physical? He had been through a lot of stuff; breaking several bones while shepherding. Fighting Bo Peeps guards? He had earned himself a few scars then. With a shudder, he remembers the intense pain of getting stabbed right before the curse hit and decides that would be the worst.

"Well come on dearie," Rumple urged, "We haven't got all day!" With a sigh David reached for the dice and dropped it as soon as it was high enough to roll. He didn't watch it roll, instead turning to stare at Snow who was watching the marble though eyes filled with tears. Her face gave no indication of its result; when he looked down he saw it said 'Physical'. _Here we go_ he thought as he blinked and he was standing in front of a wardrobe, two guards blocking his way.

He puffed out some air. I mean- he had fought guards before, but two of them? He was determined to get back to Snow- who's cries reached even here. The first guard swung and he blocked and parried, but the longer the fight went on the more his stamina dwindled and his desperation blinded him. He needed to get back- he needed to get to Snow.

He didn't see the first blow coming, which knocked him off course not to mention jarred his confidence. The room spun slightly as he tried to regain his footing, but the guards weren't waiting for him to recover and he stumbled back against the wardrobe.

He saw the sword, tried to raise his arm to block but it wouldn't work; he couldn't move. He saw the sword dart out and retract, watched it slice his shoulder and mentally counted to 7 before he felt the blind pain that had him lying on the floor. Behind him he heard the guards opening the wardrobe, far away he could hear Snow's cries, but all that left him as the pain really hit home.

He tried to move away from it but he couldn't even move, each of his limbs singing in agony. His shoulder burned white hot- the feeling so excruciating it went beyond his screams to silent whimpers which wracked his body. It consumed him from head to toe, had his whole body tensing. His hand curled into fists and his toes curled in his boots as a fine sheen of sweat broke out all over him.

He heard other voices- guards and the Evil Queen. And then finally- the pain stopped as he sank into oblivion.

When he lifted his head from the table his shoulder felt like it was still on fire. The pain wasn't as bad as it had been, but it ached still. He clutched it and hissed, gritting his teeth and gripping the table with his other hand so hard his knuckles turned white.

"Dad?" Emma sounded panicked.

"Grandpa!?" At least Henry had recovered slightly. David swore under his breath and closed his eyes, inhaling sharply.

"I'm- _ah-_ okay," He mumbled through clenched teeth, but his body was tensed completely and his face told a different story.

"Shall we move on?" Rumple interrupted, and everyone's eyes turned to Hook.

Killian

"Games be damned," Killian declared, drawing back his chair. "I'm not taking part, _mate,_ "

He had chased the crocodile through realm after realm and his hatred had not been swayed over time. Were it not for the fact this was merely a 'blast to the past' he would have killed Rumplestiltskin already. As it was, he didn't want to change his future, so leaving would have to do.

As he rose from his chair and headed towards the door he suddenly stopped, hit with a strange sort of feeling bordering on painful. Without being able to explain his actions he turned and headed back to the table, as if in a trance. He sat down harshly and realised he had been holding his breath.

"Nice try, dearie," _I swear I will fucking kill you_ Killian thought, "But we can't just leave. We're all magically bound to the game. So, roll please?"

Killian fought against it, but found himself picking up the dice.

"You know technically this is cheating. I'm not really rolling it,"

The dice left his palm nevertheless and hit the table, rolling over and over until it rested on the edge of two, before finally falling, it's face upturned with the word 'Physical' smiling at him.

He didn't have a moment to swear or gather his thought before he found himself standing at a scene which made his stomach drop.

Milah, his beloved Milah, lying dead in his arms. On his ship; her blood seeping through the deck. The slow breeze of the afternoon ran through her hair, and she looked so unbearably peaceful. Hook wanted to shake her; to wake her up. To rid himself of the horrible ache her death had so recently caused him.

"You'll have to kill me first," The words fell from his lips and he looked up to see the crocodile standing over him. The _fucking_ crocodile, with green scaly skin and yellowing teeth, and Hook's desire to have Milah back in his arms was suddenly overpowered by his desire for vengeance. He wanted to reach out and choke the demon in front of him- wanted to kill him with his bare hands. He wanted to make the Dark One suffer the way he was suffering right then.

"Ah ah I'm afraid that's not in the cards for you sonny boy," Hook saw the flash of silver metal and braced himself. His clenched fist fell to the floor, and there was something unbearably surreal about watching his own hand be parted from him. It was almost funny.

There was nothing funny about the pain though.

It started at his hand and burned through his arm, and he clutched his stump in agony and screamed because he wanted it to end, he wanted the suffering to end already. He didn't care that he was ignoring his fist on the floor, that Rumple took it. He didn't even hear what the crocodile said next. All he could do was squeeze his wrist to try to relieve some of the pressure. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and let a moan loose as the Dark One walked away, leaving Hook's blood to mingle with Milah's on the wooden deck.

He was aware he was screaming before he returned to the real world. He flew backwards off the table and landed in a heap on the floor, clutching his hook and yelling.

"Killian!" He heard over his own shouts, and Emma knelt down next to him. The pain alleviated slightly at her touch, and he tried to smile; resulting in something that resembled a grimace.

"That's foulplay," He growled over her shoulder at the crocodile, "I didn't roll both,"

"Coincidences, dearie,"

He grasped his hook and quietened, his chest heaving.

"What do you mean?" Emma asked him, her voice laced with concern. Killian paused a moment before answering.

"It was when the son a bitch cut my hand off," He remembered Henry with a guilty glance, "Milah just died," Emma placed a comforting hand on his arm and any pain he felt for Milah's death dimmed. That was a long time ago, he had Emma now after all. She leant down and kissed him, something chaste enough to be acceptable around her family but enough to placate Hook.

He returned to the table, still grasping his hook. With a sympathetic smile, he handed the dice over the table to Robin.

Robin

He contemplated his options. The clock was ticking slowly, and while he knew there was no chance of escape, time wasting was certainly an option. Then again, it was only Regina and Emma left, and they were strong enough to handle it, right? He looked across the table, at pale-faced Henry and Snow, who was still shaking and crying. He looked at David, who was wincing and rocking in his chair, taking deep breaths. He looked at Killian, still grasping his wrist tightly and squeezing his eyes shut.

What would be the point in stalling? Would it not be better just to roll? He glanced at Regina next to him, who gave him a reassuring smile and laid her hand atop his arm. He returned her gentle smile and shook the dice for a while, finally releasing it onto the table. The dice rolled over and over, crossing over half the table before settling, the words shining up at him over the glossy marble.

 _Emotional_

The words smiled up at him with mocking tones. He felt a sudden soft breeze brush his hair past his eyes, and when he could see clearly again he saw he was right by the town line. Regina stood right in front of him, her eyes glossy and distant, her face a perfect mask.

It pained him, that before him was a woman who had been through so much, had been put through unimaginable heartbreak time and time again, and yet kept bouncing back. He was supposed to be the one to end all of that; the one who was going to stay with her forever and heal her. To kiss her every morning when she awoke and every night before sleep claimed her. She had lost so many people, and she was about to lose him too.

She sniffed and even managed a weak smile- and he had to admire her bravery. Despite everything she was feeling, she still had the strength to _smile._ Then it left her and she looked down, unable to meet his eye.

"Your family is waiting," She whispered, "Go,"

Those five words broke his heart. How could anyone call her evil? This woman who was so selfless she was willing to sacrifice her happiness for a stranger who had accused her of being heartless. She couldn't even look at him. He moved to walk away, swallowing hard as he attempted to part with her.

He looked back and watched her sigh (So fucking _selfless_ ) and suddenly, forever seemed like such a long time. God knows he had lived more years than he was due already- but to live even a second without her seemed unbearable- _unfathomable._ He couldn't resist her.

It's not like he hadn't thought of it. Of not going; of staying with Regina, regardless of honour and codes. Fuck it all and live with her, the way things should be. But he had Roland to think about, and Marian too really.

But he couldn't go without a proper goodbye. With two long strides he crashed his lips against hers and Regina- completely taken by surprise- returned it full force. He clutched her hair and kissed her and kissed her and kissed her, wishing that this moment could last forever. She pulled away and he rested his forehead on hers, trying to come up with a sentence that could say everything he wanted to.

"I…"

"I know,"

And she was right of course- there was no sentence in no language that could express the emotions they both felt. With a deep breath, she pushed him away – and he once again marvelled at her resolve. Had the roles been reversed, he could never let her go.

But he had to, and –knowing he was breaking her heart all over again- he slowly walked over the town line, until she disappeared from sight.

He came back to the table with a mere blink, tears filling his eyes as his breaths came in gasps. He tried to get his head around everything- his sadness, heartbreak and immense sense of guilt. He told himself over and over that it hadn't been real.

"Robin?" Came a voice full of concern at his side. Regina sat next to him, and he turned to face her, relief overpowering him and guilt threating to crush him all at the same time. When she placed a hand on his arm he exhaled sharply.

"I'm sorry," he said, choking back tears.

"For wh-" Regina began but he cut her off with a kiss much like the one they had just shared, but filled with relief and love. He pulled his hand up to the back of her neck, holding her like he would never let go. And he wouldn't- would never again leave her, no matter what the consequences. An obvious cough from Rumplestiltskin broke them apart.

"Sorry," Regina mumbled, blushing.

"Save it for the bedroom, dearie," Rumplestiltskin giggled, and Robin noticed Regina's blush deepen.

With a smile he grasped her hand, placing the dice in it.

Regina

"Save it for the bedroom, dearie," Rumplestiltskin giggled, and Regina wondered how far along in his timeline they had arrived in, and her blush deepened as she remembered her intimate relations with her previous teacher.

Then she felt Robin's warm hand on hers, and the cool dice being handed to her. Terror seized her- she realised that she had been through a _hell_ of a lot and any roll of the dice threatened to destroy her. There are somethings that aren't meant to be relived-ever.

"Well what's wrong, Regina?" Rumple asked playfully, rolling the R in her name. "Cold feet? Worried about what you might uncover?"

Unable to stand even a second longer of his taunting she threw the dice onto the table, with such a force that it flew off the other side and nearly hit Snow. Henry got up and walked to where it had finally stopped, and Regina watched her sons face pale.

"I'm sorry Mom," He mumbled

"What does it say?" She asked, keeping her voice as even as possible. She didn't even hear his reply, just watched his mouth move, reading his lips as dread filled her stomach.

 _Both_. She barely had time to swear at Rumple before she felt her surroundings change, and fear filled her.

She found herself laying on cold hard metal, the smell of fish making its way to her nose and making her feel slightly sick. She pulled at her wrist restraints as she watched the pirate leave- taking in her bindings. They were good strong leather- she was going nowhere. The thought was scary, but she was beyond caring. She lay back and waited for the electricity to hit her.

She had lived in Storybrooke for 28 years, she was familiar with electricity. She was even familiar with electric shots to a mild extent, but she was not prepared for the sensation that filled her. She felt like a million lightning bolts were shooting through her veins, causing her hairs to stand on end, the feeling was not too painful, just incredibly unexpected to the point where her entire body tensed to try and rid herself of it.

Each time he turned up the dial it got a little more painful. Eventually, she began to feel exhausted, with her lack of magic preventing her from even dulling the pain. It got to the point where she began to feel to heinous pain even after Owen had turned the machine off. She groaned, her whole body aching as she began to feel the cold hard edge of the table beneath her. With each go she pulled against her restraints even more until they began to cut into her wrists.

When she watched him turn up the dial even more she almost broke. She almost begged him to stop, told him all about his precious _father_. But she was too stubborn, even when the shooting pains running through her felt like they were stabbing her all over, and no matter how much she writhed she couldn't escape the electricity, the _pain._

She heard the woman talking, watched Owen crank up the dial far too high and she figured this was her last chance. She let out the Evil Queen within her and she figuratively crushed his heart.

And then she was consumed by a pain so white hot that it threatened to finish her; she welcomed the approaching light…

Only to find herself in a new room.

She recognised the day, her wedding dress on her feeling stale and _wrong_. This should have been _their_ day- the happiest day of her life. The beginning of a new world for her; a world with just her and Daniel.

Oh _Daniel!_ His face was still fresh in her mind, still haunted her every nightmare. His expression as his heart was torn out of his chest and rushed because of her. Slaughtered on her account. And her mother- her _wretched_ mother- mocking her, stifling her, _controlling her._ Cora had designed her dress, of course. It was far too heavy, and the corset was so tight it cut into her flesh.

The room she was in was dark, a single candle across the room attempting to light its surroundings. She missed Daniel so much it hurt her- her heart _ached_ for his familiar touch. She felt the fear seize her- the panic set it like it had done a million times before. She could recognise a panic attack now- but she had no way of stopping it. She fell to her knees, struggling for breath and sobbing uncontrollably.

She had had a few panic attacks with Daniel, and he had comforted her each time, wrapped his strong arms around her and calmed her. He had whispered softly in her ear until she relaxed. She waited for it now- for his arms to envelop her and make her feel safe again.

Then it hit her- he was gone. He was never coming back. He would never be there to calm her ever again.

It threatened to consume her then. The pain- the panic- it was all too much. Wave upon wave of emotion coursed through her, and she felt physically sick as she knelt there- sobbing hysterically.

She might have stayed there forever, if it wasn't her wedding night and there were worse things coming for her tonight. Her mother had been ridiculously vague, and although her and Daniel had gone deliciously far she had never let him go all the way. If he had, she was certain her mother would've found out, somehow. She was rebellious enough for languid kisses and wandering hands, but no more.

The footsteps outside the door pulled her to her feet. She struggled to get her breathing under control, grateful the room was so dark her tears were not visible. Leopold was 24 years older than her, she was only nineteen. She knew the ins and outs, but the idea terrified her beyond reason. But she refused to let a stranger see her fear. Even if that stranger was now her husband.

Leopold entered the room, closing the door behind him. It could be worse, she thought. He was not a violent man, more sad and lonely. He was not unkind either, though from what she could gather he seemed a little insensitive- maybe even selfish. Caught up in grief from the loss of his wife, he wanted an heir to assume the throne once he died. Not that he wasn't devoted to his daughter, but daughters were unstable when it came to inheritance.

He walked towards her, and she struggled to control her rising panic and fear. She clenched her fists to stop her hands from trembling. If he had been more vocal –Or less drunk- he might have attempted conversation. Instead he took her by the shoulders and turned her, unlacing the corset of her dress with slow fingers. When he was finished her dress pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but the underwear her mother had picked out for her –emerald lace. She turned back to him reluctantly, feeling afraid and exposed. Wordlessly he took her in, looking her up and down. Regina stared- embarrassed – at her toes. He grunted in approval and guided her to the bed, lying her down on the sheets.

He may not have been a violent man, but he was large and bumbling and careless –and disgustingly enthusiastic- and he left Regina with bruises and marks she would have to hide in the morning.

Throughout the whole ordeal she stared at the singular candle, and dreamt of Daniel.

She came back to the table, shuddering and shaking uncontrollably. She was breathing far too deeply- she realised she could be close to her first panic attack since after she killed her father. Robin wrapped his arms her and she melted into them, hiding her face in his scarf and ignoring everyone's concerns. She clutched him roughly; trying to rid herself of the electricity she could still feel coursing through her, but also the heartache that threatened to consume her. Robin stroked her hair and whispered to her comforts that she so desperately needed.

She calmed down after a while, wiping her eyes and using magic to fix her appearance. She turned back to the table and glared straight at Rumplestiltskin, standing and conjuring a fireball she knew he would deflect.

"You son of a _bitch!"_ she spat, venom in her voice. "You let it go on far too long and you _know_ it,"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Rumple replied smoothly, staring right back at her. "Do you deny your emotional pain and heartbreak continued throughout having the ki-"

"Shut up!" She hissed at him. "Shut the _fuck_ up!"

Nobody reprimanded her for swearing in front of Henry- they were all too afraid by her outburst.

"Take your _goddamn_ dice and play your _stupid_ game and leave me out of it!" Her voice broke, her chest heaving in anger and her face curved into a scowl that gave way to reveal pain and panic. Robin pulled her back down to her seat and pulled her to him again, and she curled up against his chest and watched Emma pick up the dice


	2. Chapter 2

Emma

She looked at her watch. They had little more than ten minutes left, could she stall for that long?  
"What are you waiting for, dearie?" Rumplestiltskin asked, "Surely you weren't thinking of buying time with idle chatter?" She looked up and glared at him. She had little experience of Rumplestiltskin pre-Mr Gold, but he seemed like an ass. With his annoying giggles and weird hand gestures; he was like something straight out of a pantomime. She shook the hand with the dice in, looking across the table at her son and giving him an encouraging smile.

But the truth was she was terrified. Emma did not have a normal life, and she had made plenty of mistakes that could come back to bite her. She had watched every member of her extended family relive a pain that was supposed to be buried and gone. They weren't exactly a normal family, but a lot of things had been forgiven and forgotten. Emma didn't look back for a reason; her heart was held together with cellophane.

She rolled the dice, watching it glide across the polished hardwood table. She watched the words flick past one by one, not sure which one would be worse, until the dice paused, balanced between two- Emotional and Physical. She could've sworn she saw Rumplestiltskin wave his hands, but there was no way to prove it, and slowly the dice fell to one side.

In the corner of her eye she saw Rumplestiltskin grin. Emotional. Fuck

She cried out when she saw Henry lying on the hospital bed.  
"I can't believe this," She hissed at her son's other mother, on the other side of the bed. "You just poisoned my son,"  
" _My_ son, Ms Swan," The mayor corrected, "And _I'm_ not the one who fed it to him,"  
"You _cooked_ the goddamn thing. I mean- magic, seriously?"

A part of her still couldn't quite believe it. If all this was true she was Snow White's daughter- which was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. However this voice in her head was largely drowned out by concern for her son. Henry looked so pale and weak lying there.  
"I cooked it for you," The queen snapped.  
"Oh well that makes everything fine! You don't have to poison my son- just break his heart by killing his mother!"  
"I've been his mother for 10 years," Regina stood and glared at her. "You've been here for a few months. What kind of mother abandons him like you did?" Emma tried to deny that Regina was just voicing her own uncertainties. Right now was no time for self-doubt, her son needed her.  
"You cooked a _magic apple pie_ and felt safe bringing it near a ten year old boy! What sort of mother are _you?"_ She let loose the words before she could stop them. "You convinced this boy he was crazy. You got him a fucking _shrink_! What sort of mother tortures her son like that?" Regina looked at Emma in shock before storming out of the room. Unwilling to leave her son, the mayor stood just outside the ward door and looked through the window. Emma could've sworn there had been tears in her eyes.

She had pushed the blame onto Regina, but if anything she just felt worse. The unbearable aching in her heart increased, because fact is she can blame Regina all she wanted; she could accuse The Mayor of not listening to their son, but if Emma had listened to him he wouldn't be dying-sleeping, whatever. Regina wasn't to blame for nearly killing him. She was.

She had lost Henry once before, but she hadn't truly been his mother then. She was just losing a faceless baby- it had hurt but she'd recovered. This was different. She had got to know her son, had grown to love him as only a mother could. He had been troubled and she had listened to him, talked to him. But she had never believed him. Regina may have not believed his stories- but neither had she. She was as bad as Regina. She was worse, because at least Regina had had something to hide.

She could shout at the other woman. But when she looked at her son, frail and motionless on a hospital bed, she couldn't shake the sickening feeling inside her. She could tell herself repeatedly this was all Regina's fault. But it wasn't. It was hers.

She was a terrible mother.

She returned to the table to find all eyes trained on her. Frozen in guilt, she could only stare at the faces around her, all studying her for a reaction. She wanted to shout and cry and scream and shake… but she couldn't She couldn't even move. She felt completely numb.

"Emma?" She saw her mother's mouth move, heard the clear voice and opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. She frowned, unable to form a sentence. Every fibre of her being was focussed on vanishing this intense fear and guilt. She wasn't good enough- she never had been.

"Love?"  
Hook- Killian. She met his eyes and wanted to smile at him, to reassure him that she was okay, but she just couldn't. She couldn't even breathe- the deep hollow ache in the pit of her stomach grew and grew until it threatened to consume her. She felt it approach- that wave of pure despair she had felt at the time.

"Mom!" Henry's voice came from behind her and seemed to jolt her out of her paralysis. She jumped like she had been stung and turned to her son, dying at the concern for her in his eyes. Concern she didn't deserve.  
"Henry," She replied with a mumble, engulfing her son into a hug she was sure she couldn't ever break away from. She rocked him and squeezed him and ignored the tears running down her cheeks.  
"I'm so sorry," She mumbled quietly so only he could hear. He didn't even ask her what for, he just held onto her harder and rubbed his hand up and down her back comfortingly.

After what felt like a lifetime, Emma broke away and kissed her son's forehead. She put her arm around him protectively and trned to the imp at the end of the table.

"The game is over," She announced, checking her watch, "And our time is up. I hope to god we never have to see you again,"  
"I second that," Robin Hood added. Rumplestiltskin opened his mouth to reply- determined to have the last word- but with a bright light and a flash, his company disappeared.


	3. Chapter 3

Rumplestiltskin

He sat in the large room; alone at last. He wouldn't even admit to himself that he was confused by what had just transpired- Regina, working _with_ the saviour, and her with Hook. He could only see snippets of the future, and the whole gang had thrown him rather off course.

Still, stranger things had happened, and it wouldn't do to dwell on them. He rose from his chair, and the grin vanished from his face as he found himself pulled back down. He tried again and again to leave, and with a sharp pang he recalled his own words from earlier; _We can't just leave. We're all magically bound to the game._ All.

With a frustrated sigh he reached his hands and retrieved the dice from across the table, studying them while he considered his options. He was a damn idiot for binding them all to the game- he hadn't for a moment considered himself. At least the others were gone, they wouldn't see him suffer. He gritted his teeth and sniffed, knowing that this game was specifically designed to wound. He had designed it.

Without any further hesitation- and before he could think too clearly about what he was doing- he threw the dice. It skidded across the table in front of him, rolling around and around endlessly. Eventually it fell to one side. _Emotional_

He felt the cold wash over him with a shiver, shrugging the sensation away as the ground in front of him began to swirl and glow. He hadn't seen much magic other than his own; had certainly never encountered a magic bean. Portals to non-magical realms were beyond even his abilities. He put a protective hand in front of Bae, pulling his son away from the magic. Bae looked at him.  
"Let's go, Papa,"

He froze as his old cowardice washed over him. Without magic; who was he? Rumplestiltskin was the Dark One- that's all he had become. If you took that away, he'd be nothing more than the village coward. He couldn't do that; he couldn't go back to a time when he was unable to protect his son. He plunged his dagger into the ground as they fell toward the portal, Bae shouting at him; that he had to go, they had made a deal.

But he couldn't He hadn't felt fear like this for a long time, it took control of him. He didn't think of anything other than the uncertainty; he wouldn't have any magic in this new land. He wouldn't feel this power- this _security_. He shook his head vehemently and loosened his grip on his son.

"I can't" He merely said, and with a last cry Bae slipped from his fingertips.

For a moment there was nothing. He hadn't ever heard such a deafening silence. He listened to his breath for three seconds. Four. Then it hit him. Bae had gone.

"Bae?" His voice was barely a whisper.  
"BAE?" This time it was a desperate cry and he lunged forward, trying to retrieve his son. His _son._ He scrambled desperately at the earth, trying not to accept the fact he was gone. To another realm. All alone. And he was never coming back.

No. No; Rumple wouldn't let that happen. He had made a grave mistake, he could see that now. But everyone deserved a second chance- he would make amends. He would find Bae and bring him back. Or would stay with him. One thing was for certain- he would be reunited with his son.

"Bae!" He cried urgently as he lifted his head off the table. He looked around in a panic, calming his breath as he realised it was just him. He was alone.

He was always alone


End file.
